PART 83
Skyfire made the trip from Oregon to Bali without even straining a circuit. In less than fifteen minutes, the Autobots were 8300 hundred miles away in the mysterious expanse of jungle known as Demon Swamp. Brawn rolled down the ramp out of Skyfire’s cargo hold and drove off into the moonlit night. Sunstreaker and Downshift, however, fish-tailed in the mud immediately after rolling off the ramp, collided with each other, and then landed on their rears in robot-mode.
Sunstreaker pointed an accusing finger at Downshift. “You roadway reject! You just scuffed my clear coat!”
“Well maybe your precious clear coat wouldn’t have gotten scuffed if you hadn’t skidded into me, you jerk!” Downshift shot back.
“Keep yapping, Dip-shift! I’m about five seconds away from pounding in your ugly faceplate!” threatened Sunstreaker.
“Oh, yeah?” Downshift screamed. “I’d like to see you try it, you murdering piece of scrap! C’mon!”
Sunstreaker answered Downshift’s challenge, leaping onto the other Autobot and pummeling him as if he were his sworn enemy. Downshift—optics covered with filth and seeing static with each successive blow—threw up his forearms in an effort to shield himself from the hammer fist raining down on him.
Jazz wailed his horn and switched on his high beams. “C’mon, fellas! Stop this mess! We got an Autobot in distress out there!”
The pair froze up like deer caught in his headlights—with Sunstreaker poised to deliver another haymaker as Downshift lay defeated in the mud. Reluctantly, Sunstreaker stood up and offered his dent-riddled opponent a hand.
“You can’t beat the best,” he grinned.
Downshift swatted Sunstreaker’s hand away and lifted himself up out of the muck.
“Brawn’s the only one of us outfitted to drive in this type of terrain,” Downshift grumbled. “The rest of us will have to hoof it.”
Jazz transformed to robot-mode and stuck his foot in the swamp. The murky water went all the way up to his knee joint. “Hm. I see what you’re sayin’. We’ll have to split up. Probably find Cosmos faster that way anyway.”
Downshift slotted a scope onto his rust-rifle. “Makes sense to me,” he said.
“What’s that for?” Jazz inquired. It was common knowledge that a transformers’ targeting systems usually eliminated the need to attach telescopic sights or visual enhancers to their weaponry.
“It’s an X-ray scope,” answered Downshift. “It can see through pretty much anything that’s not metal. Useless on Cybertron—but perfect for an organic alien environment like this one.”
“Good thinking,” Jazz nodded, privately wishing that he had one for himself.
Skyfire transformed and took in his surroundings. As tall as he was, he still had trouble seeing over the massive jungle’s treetops. “Hmm. This swamp is teeming with life... we should watch our step.”
“The Decepticons wouldn’t worry about that,” replied Sunstreaker.
“Good thing we ain’t them,” Jazz retorted. “Move out! And stay frosty!”
Kickback watched from the trees in alt-mode as the squad of Autobots advanced into the swamp. Then with a mighty thrust of his hind legs, he hopped off to inform his fellow Insecticons of their arrival.
The Insecticon camp consisted of three upturned tanks along with an assortment of several smaller vehicles. The military personnel that had once been their operators were now deceased—but continued to serve the Insecticons after death as literal zombies. It was Bombshell who first discovered that the electrical current produced by his Cerebro-shells would be sufficient to reanimate a corpse once it had been implanted in the subject’s brain. The fiend planned to enslave more humans in this manner when it became necessary to migrate to other areas in search of fuel, but for now, the gas from the military vehicles that were being driven into Demon Swamp on a daily basis were providing the ravenous trio with much sustenance.
Kickback leapt over the treetops and landed in the middle of the cluttered camp’s grease filled waters with a splash.
“Autobots!” he shrieked. “Our Swamp has become infested with those miserable rolling scrap-piles!”
“There goes the neighborhood
hood,” Shrapnel wisecracked.
“This is our home!” Bombshell said. “We should defend it.”
“Bombshell’s right
right,” Shrapnel replied, throwing his arms wide. “This is our home, and I’ve grown to like it here
here.”
“So we must fight!” exclaimed Kickback.
“Yes, but not alone
alone,” Shrapnel decreed. “We Insecticons are unique among the Transformer race… as our environment changes, so do our abilities
abilities.”
Bombshell showered the wrecks strewn about them with glowing red dots from his mortar cannon. “Watch as my Insecti-shells inject our living CNA into these un-living bits of scrap metal!”
Seconds later, twin beams of energy shot out of Shrapnel’s antenna to energize the now pulsating pieces of wreckage. “And my clone-beams will provide our insecti-clones with the power they need to reshape themselves in our image
image.”
Kickback watched as the remnants of Earth vehicles morphed into alt-formed versions of himself and his comrades. Then laughing uncontrollably with glee, he fired beams out of his own antenna to help hasten the process Shrapnel and Bombshell had begun. When the Insecticons were finished, there were dozens of clones rising up out of the swamp in a swarm that seemed to black out the moon itself.
“Go forth
forth! Feed
feed!” Shrapnel commanded. “You’ll find plenty of things to devour in Demon Swamp
swamp!”
Downshift knelt down on a grassy knoll between two trees and peered through the scope of his rifle. Several hundred yards ahead, Sunstreaker sloshed his way through the swamp with no idea that he was currently in a sniper’s crosshairs.
“Camshaft didn’t deserve to die the way that he did,” Downshift ranted. “Sure all of the evidence pointed to him being a traitor, but who appointed you judge, jury, and executioner? I can’t let you get away with this... if you did it once, you’ll do it again. You’re a threat, and I’ve got to put you out of commission before you destroy anyone else!”
“Who ya talkin’ to, kid?” a voice inquired from behind.
Downshift whirled around and aimed his weapon at the ‘Bot who had questioned him. It was Brawn.
“Whoa, easy! It’s me!” Brawn said, throwing his hands up.
“D-don’t t-try to s-stop me, Brawn!” Downshift stammered. “H-he’s got it c-coming!”
“Have you blown a fuse? What are you talkin’ about?” Brawn focused his optics and caught a glimpse of Sunstreaker walking through the foliage a short distance away.
“Sunstreaker murdered my brother and Prowl tried to cover it up!” Downshift exclaimed. “Why? Just because he’s a good soldier...? Slag that scrap, Brawn! Where’s the justice? If there’s no justice, then everything just falls apart!”
“Do it,” Brawn urged. “Like you said... he’s got it comin’.”
“Y-you’re not going to try and stop me?” Downshift asked incredulously.
“I’ll be honest wit’ ya, Downshift... not everybody’s cool with what Sunstreaker did to Camshaft. Lotta ‘Bots think Sunstreaker’s a psycho. Even Sideswipe’s got concerns about ‘im.”
Brawn turned to walk away. “If you’re gonna do it, do it.” he said.
Downshift watched Brawn transform and depart, then he picked up his rifle and peered through its scope once again. He could see his target’s outline clearly behind a thick-trunked mangrove tree, but would the beam fired from his weapon still be strong enough to penetrate Sunstreaker’s cranial casing after passing through that tree? He decided not to find out. An errant shot would surely tip Sunstreaker off, and with an opponent as skilled as he was, one shot was all Downshift was going to get.
“I’ll wait until he enters that clearing up ahead,” he thought. “Then—wait, what’s that buzzing noise?”
Downshift looked up and the swarm was upon him.
(to be continued)